First Christmas
by Laughing Dragoness
Summary: The story of the Marauders' first Christmas at Hogwarts. Something happens that none of them expected; will it bring these four friends closer together? One-shot.


A/n: So here I am again, writing when I should be working. College sucks the life right out of you, I swear. As always, I would be much obliged if you would leave a little review; tell me what you liked, didn't like... you know the drill.

...

First Christmas

...

Christmas Eve dawned bright and cold, and Remus Lupin, for lack of anything better to do, was reading a book. His three best friends were still sleeping, like every other sane person in the castle, but Remus couldn't sleep. He hadn't slept all night. The silvery moon, hanging in the clear sky, was a hairsbreadth from full, and it sang in his blood and under his skin and made him unbearably restless. It was only now, with the first light of dawn, that the humming in his head eased enough for him to sit down, exhausted, and prepare himself to while away the hours until night fell again.

He wasn't sure why he'd agreed to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas break. It was risky, stupid-- he'd known exactly what would happen Christmas Eve night, when the moon waxed to that powerful, terrifying orb. But when James had asked him, in his most persuasive voice, he had caved. James took peer pressure to another level. But it _was_ for Sirius's sake... Sirius hadn't wanted to return home for the holidays, and considering his traitorous act of being sorted into Gryffindor rather than Slytherin, he wasn't exactly welcome. It had taken James half of a second to agree to stay, and Peter followed dutifully in his wake. Though he hated to admit it, even to himself, Remus had panicked. It would be harder to avoid his friends when they had so much free time, and he couldn't exactly explain that it would be far safer for everyone if he went home.

Remus laughed a little to himself, thinking about that conversation. _Sorry mates, I can't stay because I'll become a werewolf on Christmas Eve._

Right. He'd store that one away for when the time came that he didn't want any friends at all.

It was still quite early when Sirius stumbled into the common room, already dressed but still appearing half asleep. He stopped when he saw Remus, blinked several times, and came to sit beside him.

"Wotcha doing up so early?" Sirius mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing. I didn't expect to see you until noon at least."

Sirius growled, a surprisingly canine sound. "Peter was snoring. I couldn't sleep."

Remus smiled. "Neither could I," he said, softly.

Sirius, becoming more awake, peered sharply at Remus. "You don't look so good, mate. Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine," answered Remus, even more softly than before. Sometimes Sirius Black was far too intelligent, far too observant for an eleven-year-old boy.

Sirius shrugged. Remus had been saying the same thing since they had met almost four months ago. His naturally pale complexion and his thinness mostly led people to believe that he was merely sickly, and they usually overlooked his absences from class and appearance of illness that he frequently acquired. Nobody suspected, nobody knew... and Remus intended to keep it that way. Remus didn't notice, however, that Sirius's sharp, curious look returned as soon as his friend had looked away.

"Let's go down to breakfast," said Sirius suddenly.

Remus turned back to him. "Now? James will be furious if we leave without him."

Sirius shrugged again. "He'll get over it. Come on."

The truth was that Remus was not particularly hungary, but there was no point in telling Sirius that. He followed his friend down to the Great Hall, which was nearly empty. A few early risers sat alone or in pairs at one of the two tables (there being too few students left for the house tables). Sirius, true to his nature, put some of everything within reach on his plate and began shoveling it into his mouth as though it were his last meal. Remus, his stomach turned by the sight of the food, only managed a piece of toast.

Though seemingly distracted by his immense breakfast, Sirius was really watching Remus carefully. He ate almost nothing, and he moved constantly. He bit his lip, clenched and unclenched his fists, everything except get up and pace across the floor. Sirius had noticed this behavior several times over the past months, and at first had though nothing of it. Everyone had off days. Everyone was ill sometimes. But now Sirius was starting to worry. He had decided that there was something that Remus was not telling them, but he couldn't figure out what.

Sirius finished, and the two friends made their way back up to Gryffindor tower. James and Peter were up; James's hair was even more tousled than usual, and Peter's shirt was backwards. James glared at them as they walked in.

"Where were you?" he demanded, obviously put out that Remus and Sirius had done something without him.

Sirius put on his most haughty expression, which was very haughty indeed. "None of your business, Potter," he answered, his nose in the air. Remus tried not to laugh.

James's eyes flashed. "Is that so, Black? Well, if you were doing something that is, well, _secret_, then of _course_..."

Sirius flushed. James's superior smirk showed that he knew the battle was won.

"We were getting breakfast," Sirius growled, pushing past James and seating himself in the armchair closest to the fire, his arms crossed. Now Remus really did laugh, and soon everyone was laughing too. It was Christmas Eve, and these little squabbles between James and Sirius, as close as any two boys could be, never lasted long.

"So what mischief shall we get into today?" asked Sirius lazily, as though it barely mattered.

James thought for a moment. "I'd like to get some flying in this morning, the day's so perfect. When can all take turns if you brings your broom too." Both he and Sirius had superb racing brooms, and it was James's most treasured possession. The rumor that the school was thinking about forbidding first years from bringing broomsticks absolutely horrified him.

So an hour later found the four friends down on the Quidditch pitch. James and Sirius were racing around. Sirius was obviously having fun, but James's expression was one of intense concentration. His current obsession was making the Gryffindor House team next year, and he took his training very seriously. Remus personally thought he had nothing to worry about. While a mediocre flyer himself, Remus followed the sport enough to know that James was a natural on a broomstick. Of course, he was a natural at most things, and he knew it. Sometimes it made him unbelievably arrogant.

As Peter was staring up in the sky with his mouth hanging open, Remus was left alone with his thoughts. He breathed in the frozen air, feeling the electricity of the clear winter day and the full moon waiting just out of sight. It pulled him, sang to him. He itched to run on all fours through the dark forest, to hunt, to feel the sensual warmth of blood as he closed his teeth around the jugular of some wild creature... He shook himself, pulling his mind away from these violent thoughts. He would do none of these things. He would wait until dusk fell, and he would make his way to the huge willow tree on the grounds that was planted over the secret tunnel that would take him... somewhere. He was usually so close to his transformation at that point that he was more wolf than boy, and thus not too concerned with geography. He shuddered. It was painful being caged when he was in that state. He longed for blood, and the urge to bite something, anything, led him to turn on any one in his vicinity. Including himself. Vivid white scars on his torso, arms, and legs led to him make sure that he was fully covered at all times. Those would have been difficult to explain.

Some meters away, James and Sirius landed gracefully at the same moment, caused Peter to clap loudly. James took a bow, but Sirius was distracted. He put his hand on James's shoulder, who looked up at him with the exhilarated, happy expression he always had when he'd been flying.

"James," Sirius said quietly, "have you looked at Remus today? He looks pretty ill..."

James glanced quickly over at the stands, where Remus and Peter were. "He always looks ill."

Sirius didn't answer, but his brow was creased in thought as they walked over to their friends. Peter was gushing to James about his flying and James was eating it up, but Sirius focused on Remus. He was paler than usual, Sirius was sure... and there was something else, some nervous energy that was more of a feeling than an observation.

"Do you want a turn, Remus?" he asked, holding out his broom.

Remus smiled, but the smile was a little tight. "No thank you. I'll watch today."

Sirius just nodded. He offered his broom to Peter, who accepted immediately and took off with James. Sirius sat down beside Remus, unsure of what to say. Remus seemed content to sit without speaking. Sirius watched him out of the corner of his eye. Every so often a tremor would shake him and he would grimace ever so slightly. He looked as if he were in pain. For the first time, Sirius was almost frightened. All of those times that Remus had been ill, had he ever acted like this? Sirius didn't know, as he'd never paid that much attention. The thought made him feel guilty, something he hardly ever felt.

"Remus," he said finally, "are you sure you're alright?"

Remus looked at him for a long time, his face inscrutable. After a time, he sighed, and turned away.

"Yeah," he answered. But Sirius heard the trembling in his voice as he said it, and knew it was a lie.

They sat in silence until James and Peter were finished, and then they all went inside the castle.

...

It was over dinner that Sirius became truly alarmed. Remus didn't eat anything; he just sat, tense, and Sirius suspected that his fists were clenched beneath the table. Though he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been watching, there were patches of feverish red high on his friend's cheekbones. His whole body seemed painful and strained.

Abruptly, Remus stood up. "You know, I'm not feeling too well after all. I think I'll go up to the hospital wing."

James looked up, surprised. "Alright... do you want, I mean, I could go with you..."

"No, it's okay James. I'll be fine."

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the hall. Sirius stared after him.

James gave a low whistle. "And on Christmas Eve, too..."

Sirius looked intently at his best friend. "James, I think something is really wrong."

James realized how worried Sirius was. He seemed puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Sirius looked for the right words. "I don't really know... But I've watched him. He's looked ill all day, and he's obviously been in some kind of pain. And he's hiding something. I just can't figure out what."

James thought for a moment, his trust in Sirius at war with his own skepticism.

"We should go see him anyway, shouldn't we?"

James couldn't argue with that, and they finished their dinner as quickly as they could and ran upstairs. But as they made their way up to the hospital wing, they heard Madam Pomfrey's voice in the corridor ahead. They looked at each other, confused, and by unspoken consent they huddled together and James drew out the invisibility cloak that his father had given him before he had left for Hogwarts. Thus hidden, they were able to observe the nurse and a cloaked figure walk quickly down the hallway. The figure under the dark cloak answered some question that Madam Pomfrey had asked, and while they could not make out the words, they recognized Remus's voice. James and Sirius looked at each other. Without a word, they followed.

...

Night was falling fast. Remus could feel the magic of the moon pulling him, making him feel like a violin string stretched too tight that someone was attempting to pluck. His blood boiled in his veins. The strain was almost unbearable, and he involuntarily let a small moan escape between his lips. Madam Pomfrey, kindly leading him to the vicious tree that guarded his prison, said nothing, but walked faster.

They made it after what felt like an eternity, and the nurse picked up a branch from the ground and prodded a seemingly random knot in the trunk of the thrashing willow. It stopped abruptly, and Remus lurched forward into the welcoming darkness of the tunnel. In a way, he was glad to be alone, though once he gave himself to his feral form he always felt the loneliness of a wolf without a pack. The pain built in his torso, and he went even faster. He emerged at the end of the tunnel, with some small relief, and he turned to shut and lock the door. Then his eyes widened in horror.

Standing the doorway were James, Sirius, and Peter. It was obvious that they were confused, and not a little fearful. Remus cried out, terrified. He could feel the transformation stirring inside him, and he fought it.

"No!" he shouted. "You can't be here!"

The three boys were visibly taken aback by the ferocity of Remus's words, but they didn't leave.

"What's going on, Remus?" Sirius asked, his jaw set in that way that said that he wasn't going anywhere until he got answers. Remus was filled with panic.

"If you don't leave now, you'll be killed!" he roared, unconcerned that he was revealing far more than he'd ever intended to. "Just go!" Then he doubled over in pain, sinking to his knees. He wouldn't be able to fight it much longer.

Suddenly, James's face drained of blood. His eyes darted rapidly between his friend, racked with agony and shaking violently, to the moon hanging full in the black sky. He was suddenly very afraid. He grabbed Sirius and Peter none too gently and pushed them back into the tunnel. Just before he slammed the door shut, his eyes met the glowing eyes of a very angry werewolf.

"James!" shouted Sirius, furious. "Couldn't you see something was wrong? We have to go back in there!"

James, still pale, was in no mood to explain, so he was rather harsher than he meant to be. "Don't be an idiot!" he yelled, every bit as loud. "If you go back in there, you'll be dead before you can blink!"

Sirius was about to respond when they heard a huge crash from the other side of the door. They slowly back away, and Peter whimpered with fear.

"James," whispered Sirius without removing his eyes from the suddenly fragile-looking door. "What was that?"

In a most unmanly gesture, James reached out and took his friends' hands.

"A werewolf."

...

As frightened as they were, James and Sirius couldn't bring themselves to leave Remus alone. After some minutes, they decided to settle on the hard earth of the tunnel floor, even though Peter was begging them to run. Finally, Sirius was forced to clamp his hand over Peter's mouth.

"Shut up," he growled. "We're not leaving."

Peter kept his mouth shut after that, though he was obviously close to tears. James and Sirius studied each other's white faces for a long while, listening to the deafening crashes and howls from within the room. Sometimes the door shuddered violently, as though something had been thrown bodily against it.

James swallowed. "So... what happens now?"

Sirius was silent for a time, an unusual state for him. "I knew there was something... Why didn't he tell us? We could have, well, we would have..."

James shook his head. "We would have been terrified. He knows that. I wouldn't have told anyone, either. The question is what we should do now. This changes everything."

But Sirius shook his head firmly. "No. It changes nothing. So what if he's a werewolf? Has he ever put us in danger? No! He did everything he could to keep us safe, and it was only because we were too stupid to see the truth that any of this happened tonight. I won't abandon him."

James smiled. "Of course we won't abandon him. That's not what I was thinking of. But there must be something we can do to help him. He doesn't have to be alone anymore."

After that they were silent, each absorbed in his own thoughts. Peter drifted off to sleep around two in the morning. James and Sirius kept their vigil through the night, neither feeling the least bit sleepy.

Towards morning, the noises from the other side of the door became fewer and farther between, and by seven o'clock they had stopped completely. James stirred, stiff and sore from hours spent on the hard ground. He nudged Peter awake.

"Petey, go the entrance and see if the moon has set."

Though still quite drowsy, it didn't occur to Peter to do anything except obey. In a few minutes he was back.

"It's morning. No moon."

James stood, pulling Sirius to his feet as well.

"Ow," groaned Sirius. "That'll hurt tomorrow."

James wasn't listening. He had his ear pressed against the door, his eyes closed.

"I don't hear anything," he said after a moment, straightening. "I think it should be safe." He took a deep breath and turned the knob.

The room was in even more disarray than it had been the night before. The three boys cautiously walked in, searching for any sign of Remus. Everything was quiet as the grave. Dust swirled around in the still air. None of them dared call out. They found nothing in the first room, nor anywhere on the lower floor. Sirius spotted the stairs first, and he motioned for the others to follow him. They climbed slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, but they finally reached the landing. Sirius stuck his head into the first room, and then walked in. The others followed.

Remus was there, sitting on the floor and leaning against the far wall. He was completely naked, white as a sheet, and there were bloody scratches scored on his body and limbs. James gasped softly. Sirius merely went pale, and Peter squeaked and left the room.

Remus didn't stir. His eyes were closed, but they couldn't tell if he was unconscious or sleeping. After a minute, Sirius approached and knelt beside his friend, his eyes full of a helpless, sad kind of horror. He lightly touched the boy's hand, and Remus's eyes drifted open.

"So you know," he said, and his voice was surprisingly bitter. It was the voice of an adult who has seen too much, not a boy in his eleventh year.

"Remus..." said Sirius, roughly.

"I understand," Remus interrupted, almost rudely. Sirius was taken aback-- Remus was never rude. "I get it. You don't have to say anything. You needn't even have come back. Someone will be along to collect me soon."

Sirius was unable to speak. He only looked down, hiding the emotion there. James came and sat down beside them.

"Remus," he said, more firmly. "We never left. You _don't_ understand. We _don't care_."

Remus glared at them. "You will. You _should_ care! I'm a danger, a dark creature. I don't deserve friends. You'll realize that, eventually."

Sirius finally looked up, and they were surprised to see rage in his face. "Remus, you are an idiot."

None of them said a word for a long time. Nothing, in fact, until Madam Pomfrey's voice drifted up to them, calling Remus's name.

"Upstairs," he responded, and then began struggling to stand, leaning heavily on the wall. Sirius took his arm and placed it about his own shoulders, and James scrambled to do the same on the other side. Together, they pulled their friend upright.

"Thanks," he mumbled. At that moment Peter, who had been loitering outside, darted in, and a minute later the nurse followed. She gave a little cry when she saw all of them there.

"It's alright," said Remus, reclaiming his arms and managing to stand on his own, if somewhat shakily. "Nobody got hurt."

"Except you," muttered Sirius under his breath. Remus might have heard him, because a ghost of a smile flickered across his face.

...

It was only later, as they sat together in the hospital wing, that they remembered that it was Christmas Day. James and Peter had rushed up to the dormitory and fetched all of their presents, still piled neatly at the end of each bed. They exchanged gifts, laughing together, and it was almost like nothing had changed. After the improvised festivities were over (with much tongue-clicking from Madam Pomfrey, who was not happy with the arrangement but who allowed it because it _was_ Christmas), Remus sighed somewhat sadly. The others waited for him to speak. When he didn't, James cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Well, Remus, I hope we've made ourselves quite clear."

Sirius took Remus's hand and squeezed it. "We're not going anywhere."

Peter nodded his head vigorously, which the others assumed meant that he agreed.

Remus looked confused. "But after what you saw, what almost happened... it's dangerous. I care about you, as un-masculine as that sounds, and I won't put you in needless danger."

"Remus, if we were in danger last night, it was because of our own stupidity," said James in a matter-of-fact way. "Besides, what's a little danger to us?"

Sirius laughed. "Yeah. And you're much more interesting now."

Remus laughed with him. "I suppose so. Though I would give a great deal to be less interesting."

"Wouldn't we all," said James solemnly. Sirius punched him in the arm, and James would have retaliated if Madam Pomfrey had not at that moment given a very pointed snort in their direction.

"We're going to figure something out, Remus," James said, seriously. "You're not in this alone. Not anymore."

For the first time in a very long time, Remus was purely happy. He heard the truth in James's words, and the veil of isolation that he felt he'd always worn fell away for a moment. To have friends, real friends, was something he had never experienced before. That was better than any number of Christmas gifts.

...

A/n: Oh, little Remus Lupin... So we have a glimpse of the Marauders before the Map, before James fell in love, before they could become animals at will. Anyway, now review!


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